


Dark Angel

by THNDRzoid



Category: Faust - Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2020-05-31 04:02:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19418074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/THNDRzoid/pseuds/THNDRzoid
Summary: A work inspired by reading Goethe's Faust, in a poem format, its about a supernatural being haunting our main character, and covering subject like regret.





	Dark Angel

Jumping up from his bed, he heard the clattering of wings, and a knock upon his window.

"Who goes there?” He opened the window.

"A villain of misspent time, and lonesome darkness," she answered.

"Oh how familiar I am with those impulses of regret, here I sit, ground by the muses, my face, what makes it red? Tributes to Apollo, poems and songs, a crowd pleased, and appalled. Yet nothing of value, nothing to behold."

"Your sharp tongue would better serve the seduction of maidens, than to mold phrases of self-pity, you should join the brazens," she said.

"Sharpness of my tongue, sharpness of my mind, all gone by in the winds of time. I know not one such maiden, do I find, not that I'd have an intent to corrupt. With my loathsome feelings, and faint remembrances, I disrupt," he whispered faintly.

"Eppur si mouve, say they do not? The wheel keeps on turning, even if out of place you deem yourself. You're quite discerning, know that in our feeling lost is the key to us returning," she advised.

"What should I get lost in, who should I be found by?" he asked, his voice bearing a bitter note.  
"The answer to that, is lost within the night, but the answer to you, know I might..." she coyly remarked.

"The answer, the answer, to me, or of me?" he asked, with scholar-like curiosity.

"The answer of you is the love you behold. The answer for you is to love and behold!”

"If the sack of your knowledge is so abundantly filled, riddle me this, why don't I love your build?"

She smiled at him."You love me not, yet my pose and form you see. Is it not sufficient, for you to just be free?”

"The form of you is dark and faint, you carry a blight. How can you preach of love, and of life, when your form in itself, is the dread of the night?"

"If my sight is oh so dreadful then fear begets love, for you are truly found when push comes to shove," she said grimly.

He looked at her, shaken. "How can my churned stomach, and my fright of heart, transition into love and light, through the power of my sight?"


End file.
